Thief
by TinyTurian
Summary: AU where Rosa is an Italian immigrant in North America in the 18th century. She lives her life as a petty thief in the streets of Boston, until she one day crosses paths with an assassin, who sends her life spiraling in an entirely different direction. Rated T for now.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

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><p><em>Not him, not him, not him.<em>

Rosa's eyes darted from person to person as she silently moved down the crowded cobblestone street, effortlessly dodging pedestrians like water flowing through a stony creek.

_Definitely not him_

This was a horribly ineffective way to make a living, but it was one Rosa had grown more than accustomed to during the year and a half she'd spent on the North American continent. She'd come here to get away from the miserable life she'd lived in Venice, but shortly after she stepped off the cramped cargo boat along with the rest of the immigrants, she had learned that life in the new world was not everything it had been made out to be.

_Him, he will do._

In the corner of her eye she spotted a tall, hooded figure. From the hood the man's clothes grew down into a long, sweeping cloak. A slightly strange getup, Rosa had to admit, but she wasn't looking to socialize. The man was distracted, and that was all she needed.

She broke into a run, her nimble feet guiding her as she rushed towards her target. Her body prepared itself for the coming impact. She counted down the seconds.

_3, 2, 1… _

To any onlooker who might have happened to witness the incident it would have looked like a perfectly normal accident, but that was far from the truth. Having left everyone she knew back in Italy, Rosa had had no one to rely on but herself. Having found no one in Boston willing to give her work, she had turned to pickpocketing and stealing in order to survive.

Fortunately for her, she had turned out to be quite the natural.

And so, as she crashed into the man's hard body and braced the hit with her left forearm, she let her right hand slide into the pocket of his trousers, fingers searching until their tips found what Rosa was looking for: his wallet.

It all happened in a fraction of a second. She mumbled a quick "Sorry", and then disappeared back into the sea of people.

It didn't take long for Rosa to realise that the man was following her, she could easily spot him towering over the other men and women on the street as he pushed them aside in search for her. Usually, the people Rosa stole from would be too shocked and confused to comprehend that they had been the victim of a theft. Clearly, this man was smarter than that.

She decreased her own already meagre height by crouching down so that she was almost on all fours, earning some strange looks from the people around her as she did so. She turned right at the first corner and scrambled into a narrow alleyway. Rosa knew the city well, having lived on its streets for the last eighteen months. It should be easy for her to lose her pursuer among the winding and criss-crossing backstreets that lay between Boston's larger roads.

She dived around a corner, and another, and another, sensing his presence slipping further and further behind, until she was certain she had evaded him. She threw a quick look behind her to confirm her estimation before leaning against the nearest wall and letting her head slump against its rough, filthy surface.

Rosa breathed out, a long, heavy sigh. She didn't know how long she could go on living like this. At first stealing had been exciting, almost fun. It was the first time in her life she felt like she was good at something. Yes, the conditions she lived under were terrible, but she also knew people who had it much worse, men and women who had been captured and taken to jail and girls younger than herself who had no choice but to sell their bodies on the street. She wouldn't want to live that life for anything.

But living as a pickpocket wasn't exactly profitable either. She'd gotten lucky today, often one theft wouldn't earn her more than a handful of coins, and she'd have to steal from at least five or six more people just to be able to afford a decent meal. It was a dangerous life. She could start searching for 'real' work again, but considering how well that had gone last time…

Her thought's came to an abrupt end. She could hear something… footsteps.

_Merda_

She broke into another run, and just as she did she could see the man from before rounding the corner she had skirted just a minute ago, his face still concealed by his hood.

If Rosa had continued to run instead of stopping to catch her breath, she would most definitely be safe right now. But she hadn't, and instead she found herself in a slight state of panic. It was unlike her, but this was the closest she'd ever been to getting caught, and she didn't like the feeling of it.

She scrambled away and, not thinking straight, took right at the nearest crossroad even though she knew perfectly well that nothing waited for her there but a dead end. Her heart nearly stopped as she realised what she'd done. Behind her she could hear the man drawing closer and closer.

Without hesitating she leapt forward, her feet scaling the first three or four metres of the wall before clutching her hands around a ledge and heaving her body upwards. The rooftops were not an uncommon escape route for thieves, and being experienced in the field, Rosa quickly ascended the building's exterior. Even if her hunter was to attempt climbing after her, she sincerely doubted he could keep up.

Her climb continued without falter, and she didn't stop until she was almost at the top. Between the windowsill she was hanging on to and the lining the rooftop was a large, large gap, but she could jump it.

She planted the sole of her left foot on the lower ridge of the window and then sprung upwards, clutching on to the edge of the rooftop with a single hand and pulling herself up with ease. Standing triumphant on the brick roof, she sacrificed a second of her time to check how the cloaked man was doing. It appeared he had followed her up the wall, but had given up once he reached the gap that she had so easily defied.

Not willing to make the same mistake twice, Rosa sprinted across the rooftop, preparing herself to jump across to the next one as soon as possible. The guards had several of their men posted up on the roofs, but Rosa knew where they were located and deducted that she should be able to get out of the nearby area without being spotted if she moved quickly.

Every step she took brought her closer to the edge. All she had to do was jump and then she'd be out of this mess. Her mind did one of its usual countdowns, determining the exact moment that her feet had to leave the ground.

_3, 2, 1…_

And then, suddenly, there he was. Only a couple of meters in front of her the man rose from behind the roof's perimeter, his strange clothes flowing around him. Rosa's feet slid to a halt right in front him and her eyes widened with tremor. She couldn't believe it. How could he possibly have reached the other side of the building and climbed in such a small amount of time?

There was no time for her to react. He lifted his gaze, and for a moment so short it was almost nonexistent their eyes looked into each other, before his massive body smashed into hers, knocking the air out of her lungs in the process. The last thing Rosa saw before they crashed onto roof was the clear blue sky, then darkness.

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah, I know this pairing has 0 percent chance of being canon, cause, y'know, they're not even alive in the same time period. But wouldn't they just be SO cute together? They totally would.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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><p>The first thing Rosa's eyes saw when they opened again was a wooden roof. She was in a room, that much was obvious, but in her dazed state of mind, Rosa understood little else.<p>

It took her a minute to gather enough strength to raise her head and look around, but once she did, she saw that the room also had walls, windows and curtains. Outside the windows she could see a blue sky and some treetops that peeked curiously in at her, but nothing else. Rosa also realized that she was lying in a bed; a fairly broad one with a large, wooden frame.

She tried to pull herself up into a sitting position. Once she managed to do so, she swung her right leg out of bed, and then proceeded to do the same with her left. But as soon as she attempted to move the leg, a jolt of horrible, burning pain shot through it. Rosa's back arched as she gasped and grunted from pain and shock. Her face locked itself in a tight, unpleasant grimace as she waited for the ache to dissipate, which it did, slowly.

She lay still for a while, her right leg hanging awkwardly out of the bed. At first she could hear nothing except for her own heavy breathing, but soon her ears began to pick up other sounds coming from below her; slow, uneven footsteps, the creaking of doors and wood tapping against wood. It helped Rosa remember she had lungs, a throat, a tongue and a mouth.

"Hey!" she shouted, not knowing what else to shout. "Hey! Hey!"

The footsteps and the tapping stopped for a moment. Then they came back, stronger and more level in sound. As the noises drew closer Rosa realised that they were ascending a staircase, and that the tapping was the knock of a cane. Soon the only door in the room creaked open and a man stepped inside.

He was small in posture, slightly hunched over the cane Rosa had heard from a mile away. And he was old, his hair was grey, his face wrinkled and creased. He turned and looked at Rosa with the same irritated expression one might look at a housefly. Rosa was just about to demand some answers when the man spoke up, or rather, shouted, in an aged, raspy voice. "Connor, the girl's awake!"

More footsteps could be heard, these heavier, but also faster than the old man's. Shortly thereafter, another man entered the room, this one much younger than the other.

Even though he wore normal clothes and his face was not shadowed by a hood, there was no doubt in Rosa's mind that this was the man she'd had her earlier run-in with. She could tell just by his broad, looming frame and hulking appearance, and she realised that he must have brought her here after catching her.

_Instead of turning me in to the guards he takes me home with him. Why, so he can punish me in whatever way he sees fitting? How's that for sick and depraved?_

The old man, who looked even smaller after having been joined by Rosa's captor, lifted his cane and pointed its tip at her, "She's crawled halfway out of bed too."

"Who the hell are you, and where the fuck am I?" Rosa snarled, growing increasingly tired of her helpless situation.

"You, young lady," the older man's voice rasped, "are in my home. As for why, we'll have to ask Connor here."

He punctuated by slapping Connor, as the giant's name appeared to be, on his back. Connor turned to him, his demeanour, which up until now had been very calm, slightly agitated. "I told you, her leg was broken. She needed care."

"And we have you to thank for that, don't we? You didn't have to be so hard on her, you know."

"She tried to steal from me."

"And so you broke her leg?"

"That was not my intention."

Rosa watched the pair bicker back and forth. She couldn't tell who was stranger, the shrivelled up, yet fiery old man, or Connor, who's voice was much smoother and easier than what Rosa would have expected from a man of his size and appearance. However, she quickly grew tired of being talked about as if she was not present in the room. "You, Connor," she called out, her eyes digging into the man like daggers as he turned to her, "Why didn't you take me to the guards?"

He looked away, seemingly reluctant to answer the question, "You're just a pickpocket," he said, "you hardly deserve the punishment they would have given you."

Rosa had a feeling that was only part of the truth. She considered asking why he hadn't brought her to a hospital instead, if he was so concerned with her well-being, but she didn't have to. She knew very well that the doctors in this city didn't bother with street rats like her.

The old man raised his voice again, "Well, I already helped Lyle bandage up her leg. She's all yours, Connor."

With that, he exited the room.

Connor and Rosa looked at each other, and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence, the knock of the old man's cane growing further and further away the only thing that could be heard.

"I'm sorry about Achilles," Connor finally said as he took a few steps towards her, "He can be a bit harsh sometimes."

"Apologize for yourself. I think the state of my leg shows just how pleasant you are." It was true, so far Rosa greatly preferred this Achilles to the man in front of her.

He stopped walking for a second, seeming a bit taken aback by her words. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean for you to end up like this."

He knelt next to the bed and reached forward, his fingers touching Rosa's leg. She flinched away from him, "What do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed.

"Helping you back into bed, I hardly think you can manage on your own."

_Oh, right. _

A little embarrassed, Rosa looked away and muttered, "Go ahead."

Connor repeated his earlier movements and, placing his left hand firmly under Rosa's thigh, his right under her calf muscle, easily carrying the half of her body that hung outside the bedframe back onto the mattress.

As her body moved, the pain in her broken bones returned. It wasn't as intense as before, but it was still enough to make her let out a high-pitched screech.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" The concern in Connor's voice seemed genuine, but Rosa did not want his sympathy.

"No. I'm fine." She said, removing the hand he had worriedly placed on her shoulder. When he did not get up from his place next to her on the floor, she snarled loudly at him, "What? What are you still doing here?"

"Are you sure you're alright? Is there anything else you need?"

"Yes, there is," Rosa growled. "I need you to _leave_."

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><p>Rosa saw very little of Connor and Achilles the following two days, mainly because she made it very clear she wanted it that way. Achilles seemed as eager for her to get well and to get out of his house as she was. When she asked him when she could leave, when he brought her lunch the next day, he said, "As soon as you can walk back to Boston yourself."<p>

Connor was somewhat harder to keep away. It was clear that he wanted her to get well, but for a different reason than the older man. He wanted her forgiveness. Whenever he brought Rosa one of her meals he always asked if there was anything else he could do for her. She always told him "No".

On the second day she was introduced to Lyle White, a doctor who also lived on the premises, and who assured her that the fracture in her leg and that it should only be a couple of months before she could walk on her own again. To Rosa, two months seemed like an excruciatingly long time.

On her third day in the house, which her hosts referred to as "the Homestead", when Achilles brought her breakfast in the morning, Rosa told him simply that she needed clothes. She had no garments other than the filthy old rags she was wearing, and she reasoned she should at least make some use of the strange situation she'd found herself in, though she did not say that part out loud.

"What?" had been Achilles response. He seemed less than thrilled that his uninvited guest was now making demands.

She motioned to the torn cloth which had once resembled a blouse covering her torso. It seemed to be enough to make her point, because Achilles groaned in annoyance as he set down the tray of food on the nightstand next to the bed.

"I suppose I could send Connor into town to buy you a bed gown or something…" he grumbled.

"Only a bed gown?"

"Well I don't see you getting out of that bed any time soon, do you?" he said, leaving the room.

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><p>Rosa wasn't sure how she felt about her current situation. On one hand, she was angry that Connor had broken her leg. Even if she had stolen from him and it had not been his intention, he should have been able to figure out that if someone of his build launched himself into someone as small as her, it would not end attractively. Besides, she was fairly certain she had needed that money far more than he did.<p>

The other aspect of it was that, even though the Homestead wasn't exactly in pristine condition, it was infinitely better than sleeping on the streets. She was given three full meals a day (they tasted great too) and Connor seemed quite eager to gain her forgiveness, even though his calm nature did a decent job of concealing it.

She answered when he asked for her name and if she had any family in the United States, but every other time he tried to express any concern for her, she coldly brushed him off. She didn't want him to think she had forgiven him for decimating her leg.

But most of the time, sitting in her empty room, Rosa simply felt bored.

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><p>Connor returned in the evening, carrying a small heap of clothes in his arms. There were two gowns, and he spread them out carefully on the edge of her bed so that she could look at them. The first gown was white, had long sleeves and bore a floral pattern with colors ranging from the brightest of green to the darkest of purple. The other gown had no sleeves and was a soft sky-blue. Its seams had been left on the outside, forming an intricate pink pattern over the fabric.<p>

She took the blue gown into her hands, letting her fingers wander over the light, thin textile. It felt against smooth against her skin.

It took Rosa a moment to realise what she was doing, and that she probably looked quite stupid doing it. She had seen women wear garments as beautiful as these in the city, but she'd never dreamed that she'd get to wear anything like them. She let the frock slip out of her hands and into her lap as she looked up at Connor. The corners of his lips were curled into an amused smirk, but it faded quickly when he noticed Rosa's piercing glare.

"Did you buy these?" she asked. It was a somewhat of a dumb question, but it was genuine. Rosa had no idea what these types of things cost, but she assumed that clothes of this quality had to be quite expensive. Connor simply nodded in answer, while Rosa continued to eye him curiously.

"If you can afford all this, how come this house is so run-down?"

The slight smile returned to Connor's lips, "We're renovating the Homestead right now."

Rosa hadn't given it too much thought, but she had occasionally heard the sound of someone working with a hammer and other tools downstairs. She supposed that explained it.

Up until then, Rosa hadn't been too interested in the house's owners or their lives. But now, for some reason, she felt a small spark of curiosity light inside of her. "What do you do out here, anyway?" she asked. "How do you make a living?"

Connor's smile disappeared instantly, "I… it is… confidential."

Rosa would have pursued the matter further, but she realised that she was actually having a conversation with the man responsible for the current state of her left leg, and she let the matter go.

"Well, thank you for these," She said as she gathered up the clothes and placing them in a messy pile on a chair that conveniently stood by her bedside, thanking him for the first time. It was his cue to leave.

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><p><strong>AN: I'm like halfway done with the next chapter, so it shouldn't take as ridiculously long as this is one did.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

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><p>Rosa had been looking forward to wearing her new clothes ever since Connor brought them to her yesterday afternoon. She had requested the clothes for simply practical reasons, but the sight of them had awoken some sort of childish giddiness inside her, an excitement at the idea of trying on clothes the same way she'd seen normal girls, girls with families and homes, do back in Venice. The feeling was completely new to her.<p>

But shortly after her fourth day in the homestead had dawned, she realized the flaw in her plans. It was so embarrassingly obvious; she couldn't understand how she hadn't seen it coming. Not just that, but the fact that he probably knew it from the start only made it worse.

She considered giving up, but the clothes lay so infuriatingly close to her, taunting her from the side of her bed, that she couldn't help herself.

And so she attempted to put one of the gowns on herself, despite the agonizing pain her movements ignited in her shattered leg. Predictably, she didn't as much as manage to pull her current blouse over her head before she had to admit defeat.

Connor had just woken up when he heard his name being called from upstairs. There were things he needed to do, important matters that needed his attention. New leads had turned up in his ever on-going hunt for justice, but recent events had caused him to put those things on a momentary hold.

He wanted to repay Rosa, find a way to compensate her for what he'd done to her. He only had a few more days until he had to go back in action, or the trail he'd discovered would go cold, but he was going to use those days to aid her in every way he could. If she allowed him to, that was.

That's why he felt more than glad when he heard her voice shout "Connor!" from above. He pulled on a beige, long-sleeved shirt Ellen had woven for him, leaving a few buttons open so that he'd be able to bear the cruel summer heat. The fabric felt strange against his skin. He spent so much time in his assassin's robes these days that he'd almost forgotten what regular clothes felt like. "On my way!" he shouted back to her as he climbed the house's creaking stairs.

The sight that greeted Connor when he entered the bedroom was not one he had anticipated.

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><p>The curtains were still drawn, casting a complete shadow over the room. Rosa was sitting up in the bed with her mud-brown shirt hanging loosely over her left shoulder and breast, her right breast covered only by her hands clutching it. Understandably, it took a few moments for Connor to realize that he was staring at the parts of her body that were not concealed.<p>

When he managed to tear his eyes from her skin, he found that she was glaring back at him, clearly annoyed.

"I need help dressing myself."

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><p>He helped her sit up with her legs hanging off the side of the bed, trying to cause her as little pain as possible while also refraining from touching the uncovered parts of her body as he lifted her. Once she was in a comfortable enough position he walked over to the pile of clothes on the old, rickety chair.<p>

"Which one would you like to wear?" he asked.

"The blue one." She replied from behind him.

He kneeled on the mattress behind her. Rosa raised her arms in the air so that her shirt could more easily be removed, feeling his presence looming over her as he undressed her upper body. A small jolt of electricity, charged up by the friction of the thin fabric of her shirt sliding over her skin, stung her when his fingertips brushed against her arm, causing her to flinch away from him.

For a moment, Connor simply held the blue gown in his hands, as if unsure what to do with it. The small frame of her back was fully exposed to him. Even though they were seemingly small in size, he could see her breasts slightly protrude at her sides. Only when she shifted uncomfortably in front of him did he realize that he was ogling her again. Ashamed, he ran a hand through his hair.

_You're supposed to be helping her, you idiot._

He hung the cloth over her shoulders, "See if you can get your arms into it."

With some struggle and a little help from Connor, she could. Once all of her upper body was covered, Connor let out a heavy sigh he had not known he'd been holding in. Unfortunately, things were not over for him yet.

"I need help with my trousers too. I can't get them below my knees on my own."

Shortly thereafter, Connor was crouching down on one knee in front of Rosa's legs. He brought his hands up to her thighs and gripped the rim of the men's trousers she was wearing and, with an unnecessarily juvenile carefulness, began to pull them down. He was trying his absolute hardest to look at anything except for her legs, which he was slowly revealing more and more of to himself. But frankly, he wasn't doing a very good job of it.

When the cloth reached just below her knees, he heard a subdued whine from above him. Lifting his head he saw Rosa with her eyes tightly shut and teeth biting down on her lower lip, wincing in pain.

"I'm sorry. I'll be more careful." Connor said, fully meaning it.

As he continued to pull down the trousers, Rosa pulled the gown to a close. Connor couldn't help but feel a slight pang of disappointment as his view of her stomach disappeared in the corner of his eyes, and he only felt guiltier because of it.

Once the trousers were off, it took another moment before Connor realized that he was staring, this time at her legs. When it did dawn on him, he immediately stood up, looking anywhere but at Rosa, until he realized that her gaze was directed to the floor, her cheeks flushed a bright pink. It was… unlike her.

Even with the gown on, its skirt barely even reached Rosa's knees. In order to distract himself, Connor fetched the ribbon meant to accompany the gown from the chair behind her.

He held it out to her, "Do you need help with this?" At his words, Rosa seemed to snap back into reality. She stopped blushing and glared up at him, snatching the ribbon from his hand. He supposed that answered his question.

He watched as she tied the yellow band around her waist. She then looked down at herself, studying her new garments. She had such an innocent, astonished look in her eyes; Connor couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. It helped lift the awkwardness of the situation, if only a little bit.

After a moment she looked up and asked, "How do I look?"

Without thinking he replied, "Pretty."

And the awkwardness returned.

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><p>He helped her lie back on the bed, trying his best to ignore how soft the skin of her legs felt against his palms. When he tried to pull the sheet over her body she stopped him, saying that it was warm enough already. It wasn't until the moment he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him that Connor realized he was fully erect.<p>

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><p><strong>AN: How PG-13.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

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><p>The next day, Rosa didn't see Connor at all. When Achilles brought her dinner after having brought her both breakfast and lunch earlier in the day, Rosa couldn't help wondering where the man had disappeared to. When she inquired about this Achilles simply said he was "working in the city." It reminded her of Connor's edgy reaction to her question about what he did for a living the other day, and it only made her more curious about the matter.<p>

Connor had told Rosa that there were several other people living on the grounds, and since Achilles wasn't set on taking care of the woman who had intruded into his home all by himself, she got to meet some of them for the first time while Connor was gone.

There was White, the doctor, who she had met on her first day in the house. She was also introduced to two women: Diana, who was White's assistant, and her friend Catherine. They seemed like nice enough people, but Rosa found their company hard to enjoy as they constantly giggled at her heavy Italian accent and asked her questions which really were just intrusive. For that reason, she tried to keep their conversations brief whenever they came to bring her something. This was fairly easy, since she could actually be pretty charming when she wanted to. But there was one thing she did want to ask them about.

"Do you know what Connor's doing?"

At this question, they all went quiet for a moment. Then they tried to deflect it, awkwardly excusing themselves from the room or just mumbling something about how they didn't know, even though their shady behavior told Rosa otherwise. Once they left, she'd voice her confusion with a drawn-out groan.

_What is it with the people in this place?_

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><p>In Boston, Connor was having difficulty focusing on his current mission. There were people, Templars specifically, that he needed to track down, but his brain didn't seem to want to think about anything except yesterday afternoon.<p>

To put it simply, he was thinking about Rosa.

He often thought about the residents of the Homestead during his missions. He worried about them, and it wasn't particularly strange that he did. He was in a dangerous line of work, and he had already lost one family. That had been more than enough. But with Rosa, he wasn't exactly worrying.

_Why did I do that? _

She'd asked him to, _and_ it was to help her. That was reason enough, wasn't it?

_Then again, I could just have asked Ellen or one of the other women to do it._

But she had asked _him _specifically.

_She didn't even know that there were other women living in the Homestead._

This was getting him nowhere.

_Agreed. _

With relative success, Connor pushed the memory out of his mind and tried to return to his duties.

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><p>"I could sew you some clothes if you'd like. "<p>

Rosa hadn't seen Connor for a few days now and in that time she had been introduced to another of the Homestead's residents: Ellen. Right now the woman was admiring one of the nightgowns Connor had bought, the one Rosa wasn't wearing.

"I'd love that." Rosa responded.

The two women continued their conversation. Rosa enjoyed Ellen's company. Out of the people she had met here so far, Rosa probably liked Ellen the best. The Homestead was a very peaceful place, up in Rosa's room you could hear little more than birdsong from outside her window, so when they heard a pair of feet climbing up the house's stairs it was a big enough distraction for both women to fall silent and listen.

The door opened and Connor stepped into the room. When Rosa saw him she was both surprised and a little flustered. She hadn't thought much about their encounter in the past few days of not seeing him, but now she was starting to remember just how awkward it had been, how uncomfortable he had seemed.

Connor nodded to both of them, somewhat stiffly. "Hello Ellen, Rosa."

"Hi." They both responded.

Ellen seemed to notice the awkward air between Connor and Rosa because she quickly excused herself, saying she had work to do. She hurried out and closed the door behind her, leaving the pair alone in the room. An uncomfortable silence fell between them immediately. When one of them broke the silence, it was Rosa.

"Haven't seen you in a while." Rosa said, trying to inject some light-heartedness into her words.

"Yes."

Rosa waited for Connor to continue, but that seemed to be all he had to say about that.

He moved from the doorway to the middle of the room. "How are you?" he asked.

Rosa shrugged. "My leg's still broken, but other than that I'm fine."

"Oh, right."

More silence.

"Well," Connor muttered, "I should go make you something to eat."

"Oh, alright."

Connor walked out of the room. Once he was gone, Rosa let out a long breath she did not know she had been holding in.

_Why the hell is he acting like this?_

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><p>Two days passed. Connor was once again the only one taking care of her, save some occasional visits from the Homestead's women, and his behavior around her was still… off. Everything from his speech to the way he moved felt guarded. He had gone from constantly probing Rosa with questions and trying to get to know her to leaving her room as soon as he possibly could. Originally, his constant questions had annoyed Rosa, but now his silence was even more infuriating.<p>

She tried to turn the tables on him. She asked him the questions and tried to invite him into conversation, for some reason determined to figure out what was wrong with him. But no matter what she said it was as if Connor wanted nothing to do with her. A few days ago Rosa wouldn't have cared at all, but now it was driving her insane.

By now she had accepted her situation. It was a bit strange, but compared to her life just a couple of weeks ago it was wonderful. She was actually starting to feel thankful to Connor for taking her here. She just wished he'd act less… weird. Also, she was bored. So, so very bored.

She still couldn't leave the bed due to her leg and so she was confined to staring at the walls and out the windows at the sky. At times the silence of her room was mind-numbing. The occasional visits from the Homestead's residents were the highlights of her day, but these visits were usually pretty short, as everyone here seemed to have very busy schedules.

"I'm bored." She stated when Connor brought her lunch that day, before he could escape like he always did now.

"Oh." He said, unsure what she wanted him to do about it. He just stood there for a moment, thinking. "I could find you something to read."

"I don't know how to."

Connor just nodded, taking it in, but said nothing.

"But you could read to me." Rosa finally said, tired of waiting for him to suggest it.

Connor came back five minutes later, carrying a decent sized pile of books. Rosa asked Connor which book was the best. Connor said he hadn't read any of them. Based on its cover, which depicted a gothic castle, Rosa picked a book that was apparently called The Castle of Otranto. Still somewhat confounded that Rosa wanted him to do this, Connor brought a chair to the side of her bed, sat down, opened the book and began to read.

Almost as soon as Connor started reading aloud, Rosa stopped paying attention. She'd never felt like she missed much, being illiterate. She'd had more pressing things to worry about, and even now that she didn't she couldn't say she was particularly interested in literature. Still, this was better than sitting alone in silence.

She looked at Connor, sitting at the side of her bed, staring down into the pages of the book. His long hair hung down in front of his face as his lips slowly pronounced every word. Watching him like this, still not interested enough to listen to what he was saying, her mind began to wander.

He looked like he was really concentrating, and his dark hair was hanging down in front of his face as his lips slowly pronounced every word. Was it weird that his hair was longer than hers? And his voice sounded so soft, really soothing actually. How come she hadn't noticed that before?

When Rosa finally realized she was spacing out, Connor had been reading for a long time, not once stopping. Rosa had been looking at him the entire time, not hearing a word he was saying.

"You don't have to read me the entire thing right now you know?" she said. She didn't really want him to leave yet, but he probably had something he had to do. Everyone always did.

Connor stopped, having been abruptly brought out of the story. "Oh, right."

He put the book back on top of the pile and stood up to leave. He almost seemed a little dissappointed. Maybe he really had been invested in the story. As he approached the door Rosa's voice stopped him.

"Hey, Connor," she said casually, "sorry for being a being a bitch earlier."

Connor looked at her. His face betrayed little as usual, but he seemed confused. "What?"

"When I first got here, I kind of was one. Oh, and sorry about stealing your wallet too."

Connor seemed unsure what to say. "Rosa, it's…"

"Fine, I know, thanks."

Connor nodded, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"You can leave now if you want." Rosa said.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry that nothing really happens in this chapter, some are going to have to be like that unfortunately.**


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